Between the Stars
by jane0904
Summary: Three vignettes to follow (belatedly!) Indigo. Lightness followed by potential darkness as Serenity powers through the Black towards Lazarus and a visit with Inara and Sam. Life is going to change, for everyone, very soon. Read, enjoy, review!
1. Mal and Freya

1\. Mal and Freya

He often wondered why he loved her. Simon could probably tell him the chemical reasons, and River for sure could spout their formulas in their entirety, but that didn't explain why Mal felt the way he did. It wasn't that he was questioning it, not as such, because she made him complete, made him feel like he could take on the 'verse and come out victorious the other side, or at the very least not dead, but that wasn't why he wondered.

He thought he'd loved Inara. Those long months between her first coming on board and taking over his shuttle and her leaving to take up a post at the Training House ... he knew he hadn't said anything, but he thought he was in love. Maybe it was proximity, with her never being far away on a small ship like Serenity, seeing her every day, but the feelings had crept up on him until their fights became some kind of foreplay, until the day she left.

In the long nights between the stars he'd wondered why he hadn't said anything, hadn't declared his need. Yes, she was a Companion, and that very profession was at least one of the things that had stood between them. But he hadn't said, hadn't asked, hadn't _begged her_ to stop, to be only with him. He had consoled himself with the imagining that she would have refused, would have told him it was who she was, indivisible, and even if she had accepted him as her lover she wouldn't have stopped taking other men into her bed. Except he didn't _know_. It was easier to put the words into her mouth than ask her.

He'd led men into battle, taking on overwhelming odds, done what he thought was right at the risk of his own life, and yet he couldn't take that final step and ask. So she'd left, and all he had were possibilities that drove him almost to the edge of insanity.

Then came Miranda, and she came home, back into her shuttle, giving him a second chance.

He would spend the rest of his life wondering why he didn't take it.

He wasn't, he admitted, a man who could take inactivity easily. It bred introspection in him, and lying on his back recuperating from yet another gunshot wound he'd collected left him open to deep musings. His genes came from a long line of ranchers, men and women who had carved out homes from the wilderness, leaving precious little time to wonder why and how, not when it was far more important to concentrate on where the next meal was likely to be coming from.

Perhaps being captain of a spaceship wasn't that great an idea, but the food problem was still there, compounded now with the job problem, the possibility of the engines blowing up problem, and the always present not giving in to the temptation of shooting Jayne problem.

He smiled and looked down at his wife again, lying snuggled against him, her head tucked into his shoulder. Still, none of this answered his initial question of why he loved _her_.

She'd been at his side all day, supporting him while he sat in the cargo bay and talked the elders of Bakerstown on Jubilee into taking Indigo on as their sheriff. She hadn't fussed, not like Simon when he had announced his intention of not holding the meet with him lying in bed. Instead she'd helped him dress in his loosest pants, buckling the gunbelt about his hips herself, all the while talking nonsense about having had the worst time getting the blood out of the leather.

He'd managed it, of course. The elders were almost begging Indigo to come and work for them when he was through, promising a house as well as schooling for Sara, and a good enough wage that they would be able to put something by for a rainy day.

As Serenity took off, lighter in company but a mite heavier in the monetary department from the successful delivery of cargo, Freya had helped him back into the bunk they were temporarily using, undressing him with exceptionally gentle hands and assisting him to lie down again. She had insisted on a smoother, which he would have argued about except she was quicker than he was, and the drug surged through his system before he had a chance to do much more than complain.

He'd slipped into a dreamless sleep, awakening some hours later to find her next to him, her breathing slow, even, just being with him.

Maybe that was it. She understood him. There might be closed doors in his mind that he would never let her see behind, but she didn't ask to be shown, letting him have the secrets that he was afraid might stop her loving him. Instead she warmed his thoughts, letting him know without words that she would always be there, loving and comforting, arguing and frustrating, all at the same time.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Gorramit, witch," he muttered. "You always in my head?"

"I can leave."

"Don't. Not sure I'd survive if you did."

"I was lying anyway. I never will."

"Good." He twisted to pull her higher, ignoring the stabbing in his hip to lift her to him. He kissed her hard, bruisingly, his hands in her short hair, holding her. She responded in kind, a low moan in her throat vibrating through him, setting other passions into flame.

She pulled back, not enough to be out of touch but so she could look into his face. "You can't."

"Is it going to kill me?"

She stared into his eyes, and he wondered what she saw, whether it was just their blueness or whether, as the ancients would have it, they were the windows to the soul. "Simon would –"

"Simon ain't here, _ai ren_. And more particularly, he ain't invited. This is you and me. Us. And I want to be naked with you. Inside you."

She blushed, just a faint hint of colour across her cheekbones that made her eyes even more beautiful. "You're not well enough."

"It's not like I'm sick, Frey. I got shot. I'm healing. And I've got an itch I can't scratch."

Her lips twitched. "Is that what I am? An itch?"

"Something like." He leaned forward to press his mouth to hers again, his arousal damping down any discomfort. "You gonna help me scratch it or not?"

Again she gazed into his face. "You old romantic."

"Frey, if I could give you roses and wine and sweet music I would, you know that. But I'm a man, and about the most I can offer is ... me."

She smiled. "I don't want wine and music. A rose would be nice, but I'll take what I can get." She smoothed her fingers down his chest towards the gold cross she'd given him years before. "Just one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"I'll drive."

Two words. Just two, and he knew he really didn't care about the why. Or the how. Or even the where. As long as he had the who – _Freya_ – and the when – _forever_ – then the love was going to take care of itself.


	2. Family

2\. Family

Some days the ship just ain't big enough. Eight adults, seven kids, a dog, a cat and – at least from the shredded t-shirt Kaylee dragged outta the heating duct – a family of mice. Or maybe rats. That'd be about right. One way or the other, that number of folks all walking, talking, breathing at the same time, and just occasionally the thought crosses my mind to take the shuttle and find a moon where there's no terraforming, and just sit.

A'course, today I can't exactly do that. Not since I'm lying in my temporary lodging because of a little altercation with someone else's bullet ( _again_ , as Simon seems to take delight in telling me), not being able to do much except stare at the ceiling.

And listen.

All the kids are in the cargo bay, and whatever they're playing they're making enough noise to wake the dead. They woke me, anyway.

"Gorramit. Can't they play quieter?" I mutter to myself, since nobody else seems to be caring enough to listen.

"Don't be such a grouch."

Lifting my head, I'm not surprised to see Frey standing in the doorway. "Not a grouch."

"No?"

"No."

"Oh. My mistake." She starts to go.

"Hey, wait up." I struggle up a little higher, and Simon's good work pulls in my hip. "I thought you were come visiting."

She smiles, just a bit. "Well, _I_ thought I was going to have to cheer you up, but since you're not a grouch then you don't need my help."

"Hey, I'm the injured party here." I can get a lot of pout in my voice when I try. "Got shot."

"That's not why you're lying here."

"Thought it was."

"And that was your own fault."

"My fault?" Okay, maybe I hadn't quite envisaged my voice going quite so high, so I cover it with a cough, and a grimace. "My fault?" That's better.

A flash of concern colours her face for a moment before she relaxes again. "What is it Zoe tells you?"

"Not sure. Not to piss off Badger?"

Her lips twitch. "I don't think that's possible."

"Then maybe it's not to open a window when we're out in the Black."

"That's just being sensible. Something you don't seem to have too much experience with."

"Hey!"

She pushes off from the wall and steps inside. "And while sensible, it's not what I was thinking of."

"Can't think of anything else."

"No?"

Now she's standing next to me I can lay back, not having to strain to see her face. "Nothing springs to mind, no."

"How about ... duck?"

"You mean one o'them birds that lives on the water?"

Her fingers touch the scar running down the centre of my chest, barely fluttering over my skin. "Not at all."

"Didn't kill me, Frey."

"Not for lack of trying."

"You don't seem too concerned about my well-being," I point out.

Her hand stops, barely a breath above me. "You didn't see me before. When I was threatening Simon. Until he told me you were lucky."

"Better to be lucky than rich, I guess."

"Better to duck than have to be lucky in the first place." Her fingertips graze my waist, the bandages covering the wound on my hip just showing above the blanket.

"Sorry."

"Mmn."

"No, Frey, I am. And you know I ain't wanting to put you through any pain if I can help it."

She looks up, into my eyes, and I can see my future written there, larger than on a Cortex screen. Truth is, I can see the couch in the next few days, but beyond that there's being married to a woman who'd tear pieces out of a gang determined to do me harm.

"It wasn't just me," she murmured. "River did her share of tearing."

"I reckon she did." Never did think much of slavers, and those in Cason's Point were mostly pushing daisies now anyway.

"And Jayne. And Zoe."

"Hey, Hank was hurt worse'n me!"

"And that's an excuse?"

"No, but –"

"And then you go and insist on talking to the people on Jubilee in person!" She's keeping it inside but I can see the exasperation on her face, and I can tell we've got to the root of the problem.

"They took on Indigo, didn't they? Gave him a job, and a place for him and his young'un."

"And?"

"And … what?"

"And the next day you think you're well, and try and get up those _fong luh_ stairs!"

"Frey, honey, I didn't plan on falling."

"Except you did. And made it ten times worse. Simon despairs of you, you know."

"If'n you'd just helped me then –"

"So it's my fault now?"

Luckily she don't really think that, 'cause I've been married long enough that I know even Frey can just make an argument up outta nowhere when she's a mind. "Don't recall saying that."

"Mal ..."

Okay, maybe the couch is gonna figure more than I anticipated. "Yeah, well, I ain't exactly well known for my intelligence."

"Simon told you to stay in bed. And don't think I've forgiven Jayne yet, either, for letting you. And after he agreed it was a bad idea."

"That's it. Rub it in."

She leans forward, and I can feel her breath on my cheek. "It happens too much, Mal. You should have learned by now."

"I know."

"You have to learn."

"I know."

"Do you have any idea how thick your medical notes are?"

"I _know_." I do know, too, and more'n anything I know how much she loves me, and how much it hurts her to see me lying here like this. And maybe I will learn.

She sighs, and it's obvious she's peeked, and doesn't believe a word. "Mal ..."

" _Ai ren_ , I'll try. It ain't like I want to leave you, or Ethan, or Jesse ... But I'm a man, and we're just on occasion stubborn."

"Stubborn can take you away."

I can feel a sigh lifting from my chest, and it erupts from my lips before I can stop it. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking."

"I love you, Frey."

"That's not the answer to everything." Still, she touches my lips with hers, just a softness that's so light I ain't even sure it happened. "I love you too, Mal."

"Daddy!" Jesse runs in. "You're awake!"

"Hey there, JJ." I smile at my daughter, my own special nickname for her slipping out without me even thinking about it.

She climbs up onto the bed, and I can see Frey ready to grab her if she jostles my hip, but my little girl is far too much like her mother, and is very careful. "Play with us."

"Sounded like you were having fun without me."

She pouts, shaking her head so hard her hair flies around her face. "Stopped."

"What, playing or having fun?"

"Both." She gives a sigh far heavier than any I've managed, and I can't help smiling.

Ethan tumbles up behind her. "Daddy!"

I wonder vaguely how long it'll be before he wants to call me _Dad_ , and hope it'll be a while yet. "Hey, son." My son. My daughter. I feel my chest wanting to expand a bit. "Where're the others?"

"Auntie Kaylee said it was time for baths," Ethan explained. "I think Bethie's hiding."

I have to chuckle. That little girl surely hates getting wet all over. If we weren't sure she was Simon's, I'd be looking at Jayne to be responsible.

"Mal," Frey says, shaking her head in mock resignation.

"What?" I ask, grinning. "Anyway, what about Ben and Cal?"

"Auntie River." Jesse is sucking on a strand of hair which Frey gently pulls out of her mouth. "In the shuttle."

"Giving us some family time," Frey explains.

"Nice of her."

"I don't know about that. Zoe's not going to be happy when she finds out the stories River's been telling her son."

"That bad, huh?"

"With sound effects."

"I remember some my Ma used to tell me, from Earth-that-was ... they could be pretty blood-curdling."

"Worse."

Jesse's tugging on my hand. "Play with us, Daddy?"

"Well, I can't exactly run around at the moment."

She looks at me, the expression on her face pure Frey. "Daddy was silly."

"You too?"

She gives me a huge grin, totally unrepentant. "Play?"

"I don't know ..." I glance up at Frey, who thinks for a moment.

"I suppose it won't hurt," she says slowly. "Something quiet."

"Cards?" I ask, remembering the last time we played, just the two of us, and I ended up stripped buck naked and owing her most of Serenity. Not that I minded, since she'd already lost all her clothing and was down to her necklace and a smile.

Frey's cheeks pink up, just a touch. "I'm not playing Tall Card with you."

"Afraid you're gonna lose?" I tease.

She ignores me and says instead, "I suppose we don't have to bet."

"Then it ain't playing Tall Card."

"Daddy ..." Ethan says, wheedling.

I can't keep the stern look on my face. "Okay. How about I teach you all a game we used to play on Shadow?"

Ethan's eyes are shining. "With Grandma?"

"That's right. She taught me when I was about your age."

"Is it hard?" Jesse asks, biting her lip.

I reach up and ruffle her hair, wondering every single time at how she looks just like her mother. "Nope, JJ. You'll pick it up quick." I look at my son. "Go get the cards."

"Yes sir!" He bounds out of the room, and I can't help wishing I still had his energy.

"And the counters!" I add, but I'm not sure he hears. "JJ, go tell him, will you?"

"Yes, Daddy." She blows me a kiss and runs out.

Freya is shaking her head, just a little. "If it's not gambling why do we need counters?"

"For counting."

She raises her eyebrows at me, but her lips are twitching. "Are you rolling your eyes at me, Mal?"

"Wouldn't dare, Frey."

"Good."

"Momma!" It's Ethan, yelling down the stairs. "Ben wants to join in!"

I look at Frey, who laughs. "Zoe's found out."

"River's stories?"

"She's put her foot down."

I laugh too, and only grimace a little. "Considering some of the things we got up to –" I stop, on account of the look on her face. "I know. It ain't the same thing."

"They're still so young."

I know what she means. 'Verse we live in, there's no way those kids won't find out there seems to be more bad guys than good, although most of 'em have a fair inkling of it already, but we still don't have to make it plain. Not yet.

Frey reaches out and smoothes my forehead. I can't help leaning into her touch a little, knowing she's seen my thoughts clear as if I'd spoken 'em aloud.

"Momma?" Ethan again.

She smiles. "Okay," she calls, far too lady-like for my boat.

A clattering down the stairs signals at least three pairs of small feet heading back.

"You know if Ben comes so will Hope," I point out.

"You were the one who suggested it."

"I was bored."

"No chance of that now."

"Guess not." I reach out and take her hand, feeling her pulse beating strongly, surely, under my fingertips. I rub her palm with my thumb.

"And there'll be none of that for a while," she murmurs.

The night before my precipitative fall down the stairs comes to mind, and I lick my lips. "Not even if you drive?"

"No."

"Spoilsport."

The kids clatter in, Hope following Ben as we knew she would, and the mattress shifts under me as they all clamber up. Frey grabs Jesse and sits her on her lap, close enough to see but giving me just the breathing space I need.

Ethan holds out the pack of cards. "How come Grandma taught you?" he asks, eager to learn anything new.

"I'd told her Kyle'd said his uncle was teaching him Tall Card, and she ... well, I think she told Kyle's Ma to tell his Pa to tell his uncle not to."

Frey hides a smile, seeing the picture of my Ma's face as it pops into my head. For now she's keeping an eye on me, her mind open, least 'til I'm back on my feet. And I don't mind, not really. Shows just how much she loves me.

"So what's this called, Uncle Mal?" Ben asks, his coffee face shining.

"Not sure if it has a proper name, but we always just called it Shadow." I start to shuffle the cards, but my fingers are like thumbs today and Frey takes the stack off me, doing it far more professional than she has a right to know how.

"What are the rules, Daddy?" Ethan wants to know.

"Well, you have to make runs of cards from what're dealt to you and the throwaways, and if'n you do then you can claim a counter. A'course, the other players can challenge you at any time, if they think you're lying."

"So if you –" Ethan stops and looks guiltily towards the doorway.

I follow his gaze. "Ah."

Bethie is standing there, radiating annoyance, her little hands in fists on her hips. "What are you doing?" she demands.

"Playing cards," Ethan says.

"Without me?" That little girl can manage to put a hell of a lot of upset into a lip tremble, while still being angry.

Ethan sighs, just quietly, but I know his mother's heard 'cause she's smiling in that way she's got.

"You still hiding from your Ma?" I ask.

Bethie rolls her foot. "Don't need a bath."

"Kaylee's given up," Frey whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. "But you'll be having a bath tomorrow, young lady."

Bethie doesn't exactly look displeased. "So I've got time to play." She glares at the others. " _If_ I'm invited."

"You can join in," Frey says. "But you'll need to get a chair – there's not enough room on the bed."

Bethie turns the thousand-watt stare on Ethan, who sighs again – louder this time – and climbs down, giving up his space. "I'll get one." He slouches out and Bethie scrabbles into the probably still warm spot.

I glance at Frey, but she's not worried. _He always gonna be a gentleman?_ I think towards her.

 _Like his daddy._

 _I'm pretty sure that's one thing I'm not._

 _You're always a gentleman towards women. Even Saffron._

I snort, and the others look at me, but I wipe the end of my nose like I'm coming down with a cold.

A screeching noise outside suggests Ethan is dragging a chair somewhat despondently across the deck, and I can't help the grin.

Like I said, some days the ship just ain't big enough. Then there's others, like today, that might be tinged with hurt, but it don't matter, because ... well, just because.


	3. Absence of Memory

3\. Absence of Memory

Simon sat back and stared at his notes. He'd only intended this to be an intellectual exercise, something to do in the long gaps between Mal getting shot, particularly now that Hank had been allowed to leave the infirmary and take up residence in the lower crew quarters, but it had become something else, something to set his gifted mind to in a place where he could just as easily have spent his time playing with his children and letting his intelligence stagnate. Not that playing tag and patching grazed knees wasn't good for the soul, but sometimes he needed to ... extend himself. That extension had now borne fruit.

He had, at least on paper, done what the Alliance had failed to do.

"It's wrong," River said softly from the doorway.

He wasn't surprised. He knew his sister couldn't help herself, keeping tabs on everyone on board to make sure they weren't about to go as crazy as she was, and she was sure to have picked up on his preoccupation. He ran his eye over the equations again. "I don't think so. I checked my figures half a dozen times –"

"I mean what you have produced. It shouldn't exist."

He looked up at her. "It doesn't. It's just a theory."

"You know it's more. You know it would work." She looked so sad that he got quickly to his feet and crossed the small room to hug her tightly.

"I just took what I knew of the Re-Pax, what Naxom does, the genetic markers we've managed to deduce –"

"Reverse engineering and experience. I know." She shook her head. "It shouldn't exist."

"We don't know if it would work."

"Do you want to test it?"

He pushed her away enough so he could look into her eyes, those dark pools that now reflected her anxiety. "Of course not."

"The ability to turn on the psychic gene ... reduce the insanity to almost nothing ... to produce an army on demand ... you would be feted throughout the Empire."

"There isn't an Empire."

"There would be. Nobody would be able to stand against them. Blue Sun would rule."

He felt the blood leave his face. "You're not serious."

"Every planet will have a testing centre, and each child tested. Those found suitable are taken from their families, injected, made to endure the sudden filling of their minds with a billion others, trained to hunt anyone who doesn't think the way they should be thinking, to kill –"

"River, stop." He'd seen it as she spoke, and knew she was right. Letting her go he grabbed up the papers and opened the chute to the medical incinerator Kaylee had rigged for him. He paused only a moment, then tossed them inside, knowing they were already ash as the door closed. "They're gone."

"Yes."

"I can't forget it, though," he added, regret in his voice.

"I can help."

His eyes narrowed. "You ... how?"

"Break the bonds. Change ... certain memories. You will recall it as a bad dream, and not wish to revisit it."

"Kill me with your brain, huh?"

"Probably not."

"Probably." He had to smile. "I'm not sure I like the uncertainty."

"I'll try my best."

"Mmn." Simon leaned back on the counter. "I could do it chemically. Use Anafaxilan to alter my recollection –"

"It would still be there." She looked down at her bare feet and went on, "There will be others. People who can ream the secrets from your brain with no more difficulty than shelling peas. People like me."

Simon shuddered. Sometimes he was almost afraid of his sister. "River ..."

She lifted her head, and this time the look on her face was pure love. "Let me help."

"Will I know? I mean, will I remember that I used to know, and have just forgotten?"

"You mean like the time when I was four and I did your homework for you and told you you'd just forgotten doing it?"

He laughed. "You were ... very persuasive."

"It was right, too. You got an A."

"Which you crowed about for days."

She shrugged. "I was four."

"And a brat even then."

"Boob."

"I know." He gazed at her, his broken and damaged sister. "Will I know?" he asked again.

"No. You won't remember letting me, either."

An uncomfortable thought crossed his mind. "Have you ... done this before?"

"No."

"How do I know?"

"Because you're Simon. You're my brother. I don't lie to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Well, not about the important things." She stepped delicately to one of the cupboards and started to assemble a hypo.

"What's that?"

"A sedative."

"Why? Is it going to hurt?"

"This is just in case." She turned back. "You'd better sit down."

He paused, torn. As much as he trusted his sister, he also couldn't help thinking about the things she'd done in the past, from the Maidenhead to Miranda, and so many times since.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, her bare foot tapping on the deck.

"You know what I said before about you being a brat?" Simon asked, even as he lowered himself onto the stool next to the medbed.

He felt a slight sting on his neck, then the world dropped into darkness as her voice echoed from a long way away.

"Boob."

* * *

"Simon? Simon?"

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He lifted his head from where it had been resting on the medbed and blinked hard. "What?"

"Did you fall asleep?" It was Kaylee, smiling indulgently at him. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know what you find to do with yourself all day."

Something tickled his brain, something he'd been doing, but it shied away as he tried to grasp it, slipping back into a dream. Ah well, it can't have been important.

"Me neither," he admitted, pulling her down onto his lap. "Although I can think of a couple of things I'd like to be doing right now."

She giggled as he nibbled on her neck, tasting sweat, engine grease and Kaylee.

"Daddy!" Hope tumbled into the infirmary. "You've got to be on my team!" she demanded, her short blonde curls shining with determination.

Simon looked at his little girl. "Team?"

"Yes." Hope might not be his biological daughter, but she certainly had the same mannerisms as her siblings, and with her little fists on her hips, she looked very like her sister, Bethie. "We're playing tag only Ethan's got Auntie Frey and Bethie took Uncle Jayne and Auntie Zoe won't let Uncle Hank play so I've got nobody to be on my team!" The words fell over each other as she tried to get them out all at once.

"What about Ben?"

Hope shrugged, another expressive action. "He's not big enough."

"I don't understand."

"It's shoulder tag," she said patiently, this time sounding so like her Auntie River did when she was explaining something that her father had to smile.

"Ah." This was a game Jayne had invented one day, lifting Kaylee to sit on his shoulders so she was high enough to toss the silver ball through the improvised hoop. Simon looked into his wife's eyes. "It looks like I have a prior appointment."

"Surely does." She got off his lap. "But I'm taking a rain check."

"Of course." He stood up. "I wouldn't have it any other way." In two steps he'd crossed to the doorway and swept his little daughter up into his arms. "Besides, we'll have to celebrate our victory." He ran towards the cargo bay, Hope shrieking with laughter as they went, and Kaylee following to be the cheering section.

River watched from the entrance to her shipboard garden, satisfied for the moment. The danger had been averted, at least for now, until Simon found time on his hands again and he used it unwisely. She didn't know how many more times she could do this, but Freya had been very clear. Simon's genius had to be kept occupied, because if his work ever reached the Alliance, or the New Browncoats, or Blue Sun ...

 _The Reavers would be the least of our worries._ Freya's voice was gentle, calming.

 _I know. But I can't forget._ It was there, the formula, spread out in her mind, with all the refinements that Simon hadn't yet developed.

 _Then we'll be strong together._

 _Mu qin ..._

 _Cal wants to join in._

Freya was trying to change the subject, and River let her.

 _If we play, we'll win._

 _You think?_ Freya sounded like she was laughing.

The psychic had to smile. _Bet you one week's laundry duty._

 _You're on._

The sound of tiny motors behind her signalled the automatic watering system Kaylee had installed, and River closed the door to keep the precious moisture inside. Prepare to lose. She ran towards the cargo bay, ready to join the game and forget the future for just a while.


End file.
